Define
by Ceresi
Summary: Iruka returns to Konoha to find that things were happening while he was gone. Mild SasuNaru, angst.


Another in the 'At Your Side' series, a bunch of disconnected ficlets dealing with what must be a common theme in Naruto's world -- sitting at someone's bedside and wondering if they'll be all right. SasuNaru, PG.  
  
**At Your Side: Define**  
by Ceresi  
  
**Rating:** PG  
  
**Summary:** Iruka returns to Konoha to find that things were happening while he was gone. Mild SasuNaru, angst.  
  
**WARNINGS:** None  
  
**Spoilers:** For the current 'chasing after Sasuke' arc.  
  
**Author's Notes:** Another in the 'At Your Side' series. I'd sort of intended to make it Iruka/Naruto, but the fic didn't seem inclined to move in that direction, so . . . maybe next time. It also contains some mild speculation about why Itachi's organization wants Naruto, and what they'll do to him when they get him. But it's just speculation, mind. :)  
  
A/N #2: WTF is up with this new QuickEdit thing? Why is it anti-asterik? Asterik's are a healthy part of your keyboard, Denial never helped anyone. ::grumps::  


* * *

  
The thing with Sasuke was that everyone always forgot there was a Before.  
  
After, Sasuke's classmates were careful to give him space and be extra-nice if he wanted anything. After, girls whispered and pointed and stared, beguiled by his handsome, brooding intensity. After, teachers gathered in groups and talked about his genius and his drive. After, Sasuke grew cold and pale and his eyes went dead and blank.  
  
Before, though, Sasuke was a student like anyone else. One with a brilliant brother and a lot of determination, true, but normal after all. He may have been a genius, or maybe not. Iruka couldn't quite recall -- mostly, he thought that Sasuke had very large, very sweet eyes, and was somewhat shy.  
  
Everyone always forgot that, though; they saw only the After, and the old Sasuke, the one with the eager gaze and the small, hopeful smile, died with the rest of his family. Iruka thought he was gone forever until a chance meeting, a chance assignment.  
  
Naruto was, if nothing else, constant. Rowdy and noisy and continually rambunctious -- Iruka knew a dozen words for 'hyper' after having him in class. Naruto pulled the same pranks at twelve that he pulled at seven. He was as clumsy and silly at ten as he was at five.  
  
Naruto and Sasuke, the trouble-maker and the troubled one, the klutz and the genius, the heart-broken and the heart-breaker . . . it should have been disaster, but it worked, albeit bumpily. Everytime they passed through the village, heading to or from some mission, Iruka would stop to stare. They were unendingly bizarre, and bizarrely perfect.  
  
Sasuke, however, was not like Naruto. He didn't have Naruto's determination to make a better life -- he'd had a better life, and it had been stolen from him. They were both bitter, but Sasuke's bitterness would never fade.  
  
It was inevitable that he would leave the village eventually, seeking power that no honorable ninja sought. It wasn't as inevitable that Naruto would follow him, but he did anyway. He had a way of doing the unexpected.  
  
When Iruka learned that Naruto had gone on a mission while he was on one of his own -- a dangerous mission, one that had led him straight to Orochimaru -- that he'd been in the hospital for a week --  
  
Well. It probably wasn't a good idea to say the sort of things he'd said to one's superiours, but that had never stopped him before. And Tsunade looked more sympathetic than angry, really.  
  
"Naruto."  
  
Naruto looked up. He'd been in the hospital's small courtyard, negligent of the mosquitoes and the fireflies and the dark of midnight. A bag hung in front of him, well-punched and battered.  
  
"Iruka-sensei." Something about Naruto was quiet, subdued. He left the bag and crossed the small square of grass, his head bowed. When their he looked up, his eyes were tired, and his mouth was a thin line.  
  
Once, Iruka would have had to kneel to for them to be face-to-face, but Naruto had grown so much, lately . . . they were practically the same height. He was just beginning to acquire the lanky unhappiness of teenagers everywhere -- Iruka could see it in his bony hands and the stark, clean lines of his throat. He put his hands on Naruto's shoulders, using his thumbs to force Naruto's chin up. He'd never been so worried in his entire life; it was like a living, vicious thing, tearing at his belly and fighting for the outside air. Iruka took a deep breath and fought to keep it within.  
  
"Are you all right?" he asked and winced, because it was obvious that no, Naruto was not all right.  
  
"I think so," Naruto said mildly, frowning into the distance. "I feel . . . weird."  
  
Iruka pasted on a false, teasing smile. "Weirder than normal?"  
  
Naruto, however, was amused. "Yeah, I guess." He reached up, dislodging Iruka's hand accidentally, and ruffled his hair. "They . . . Iruka-sensei, they . . . ."  
  
"I know," Iruka said, trying to keep his voice gentle without becoming patronizing. "Hokage-sama told me --"  
  
"They took the fox out of me." Naruto was visibly distressed. He jerked at his hair, hiding his eyes with his arms. "They -- he -- he yanked it out."  
  
"I know." Iruka re-gripped his shoulders, trying to think of a way to relax him. "Let's sit down inside, Naruto. You need to rest."  
  
Naruto's hands fell and he looked at them blankly. "They took the fox out of me," he said again, hollowly. "I feel like I'm made out of rubber."  
  
Iruka opened the door and guided Naruto towards it. "Inside," he ordered.  
  
They went to Naruto and Sasuke's room. Sasuke was still unconcious, peacefully unaware of the moonlight and the flowers crowding his nightstand. Naruto looked at him once and had to tear his eyes away.  
  
Iruka sat on Naruto's bed, his back to Sasuke, and Naruto joined him. "I feel like such a weakling," he whispered.  
  
Iruka gave a short, disbeliving laugh. Naruto frowned at him in betrayal.  
  
"Naruto, you faced Orochimaru and his most devoted henchman, and you fought him, and you won. You saved Sasuke. You saved Neji and Chouji." Iruka shook his head, staring at his own shadow, thrown sharply against the far wall. "You're anything but weak."  
  
Naruto seemed flattered, but only a little. "Not like that, it's just . . . ."  
  
Iruka waited paitently.  
  
"I . . ." Naruto clenched his jaw and gripped the sheets covering his bed. "I've been so stupid! All along, all along, so stupid, so stupid!" His eyes filled and he blinked hard, curling in on himself. "I -- I --"  
  
"Naruto," Iruka murmured, alarmed, putting his arm around the boy's shoulders and squeezing him gently. "Naruto, calm down."  
  
Naruto pressed his face against Iruka's vest and sniffed hard. Iruka could feel the nervous tension vibrating in his body, and wondered if Naruto had always been so skinny. Beneath the taut muscles, he could feel Naruto's bones. _Too thin._  
  
"It's okay." Iruka rubbed circles into Naruto's back and glanced over at Sasuke. He seemed restful. What kind of nightmares did he have? He had to have _some._  
  
"I'm sorry," Naruto mumbled. "I'm such an idiot. Such a worthless, worthless, idiot." He seemed too tired to be his usual passionate self -- the words were dull and he blinked only slowly, with the utmost of effort.  
  
Iruka let him go. "Naruto, what's bothering you? Tell me."  
  
Naruto looked torn between salvaging his pride and letting it out. After a glance at Iruka's stern frown, he decided on the latter.  
  
"I've spent so much time . . . trying to be Hokage . . . because everyone used to hate me . . . ." He stared down at his knees, his eyes empty pools of blue. He was a million miles away. "It was everything. And Sasuke . . . ."  
  
Naruto turned slightly so that he could see his friend. "I didn't even realize. I didn't even realize."  
  
Iruka sighed. "No one did, Naruto, there wasn't anything you could have --"  
  
"I bet you did," Naruto challenged. There was none of his usual fire in him: without the fox, Naruto was empty. Or maybe it was something else? "I'll bet you knew he was going to leave."  
  
Iruka sighed again. "Well, I guessed --"  
  
"I knew it." Naruto looked down, defeated. "I failed him. I failed my friend."  
  
"Naruto, have you been sitting around telling yourself this sort of thing for the past week?" Iruka demanded. Naruto blinked at him. "It's not true. Believe me. I -- can't convince you if you don't want to hear it, but Naruto, you have not failed anyone. Ever."  
  
"He died for me, once." At Iruka's clear look of surprise, Naruto hurried to clarify. "Not like, not like, _really_ dead, but he . . . he thought he was going to die." Naruto stared at Sasuke with a strange, pained look in his eyes. "It was a trap and he ran right into it so I wouldn't be the one. He practically died."  
  
Iruka felt a surge of defeat. "Naruto --"  
  
"And I didn't even thank him." Naruto flinched as if the words were cutting him deep. "I just went on hating him and competing with him, and he died for me, and look at him now." Naruto turned away. "I failed."  
  
Iruka couldn't think of anything to say to that.  
  
Naruto left. With a long sigh, Iruka went to Sasuke.  
  
He was resting, with the well-wishes of the entire village bestowed upon him. Even Chouji and Neji had forgiven him, if Tsunade was to be believed, somehow understanding despite their extensive injuries. Perhaps they too could see the pain bottled inside of him, even as he slept, the pain of a family lost, killed, _stolen._ Such familiar pain.  
  
Iruka adjusted Sasuke's blankets around his chin and went out.  
  
He found Naruto in the courtyard again, punching his bag with stunning, vicious intensity. Iruka stood aside for a moment, content to let Naruto work out his frustrations, when he realized that the bag was stained with red.  
  
Horrifed, he jumped forward, catching and stilling Naruto's hands. "How long have you been bleeding?"  
  
Panting, Naruto stared at him. "Huh?" He looked down at his knuckles, ripped and bloody. "Oh. I don't know?"  
  
"Come inside right now," Iruka ordered. "I'm bandaging your hands."  
  
"I'll hea --" Naruto stopped. "No. I won't heal, will I?"  
  
Iruka forced him back into the hospital without answering. Yes, Naruto would heal, but it would take a long time. He would even heal if Sasuke never woke up.  
  
But that could take forever.  
  
Iruka patched up his hands, cleaning the scrapes and wrapping them until even the worst of his mother-hen instincts were satisfied. Naruto's fingers were limp, and he didn't so much as wince when Iruka dabbed cleaning solution on them. He was staring at Sasuke.  
  
"Do you think he'll wake up?" Naruto whispered.  
  
"Yes," Iruka lied firmly and simply. He pulled a chair over when he was done. "I'm staying here. Now lay down and get some sleep."  
  
Naruto obeyed with uncharacteristic obedience, tugging the thin sheets down and slipping between them. A lantern by the window swayed on the breeze, painting the room briefly in its glow, orange and lurid like fire. Iruka felt his throat catch.  
  
"How long are you going to stay here?" Naruto mumbled, tucking his bandaged hands beneath his pillow.  
  
"Until you both get better," Iruka said.  
  
"But your missions . . . they'll call you away . . . ."  
  
Iruka smiled grimly, anticipating battle with a cool feeling of satisfaction. "They can try."  
  
Naruto gave a small, happy sigh. He buried his nose in his blanket and relaxed slowly, his toes peeking over the edge of the bed. _He's getting tall,_ Iruka thought wryly. _He's growing up. Had to happen eventually . . . ._  
  
"Iruka-sensei?" Naruto muttered sleepily.  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"If Sasuke wakes up, will you wake me up?"  
  
"Of course," Iruka promised.  
  
"I hope he wakes up." Naruto's eyebrows drew together, furrowing his brow. His body clenched with tension and anxiety. "I hope he wakes up. I don't want him to die. I don't --"  
  
"I know." Iruka reached over, gripping his shoulder tightly. "Relax. Sleep. I'm right here."  
  
Naruto relaxed slowly, exhaustion winning over worry. "I hope he wakes up," he whispered again.  
  
"So do I," Iruka said honestly.  
  
"I think I'll die if he doesn't." Iruka looked alarmed, but Naruto's eyes were closed. He didn't notice, and added, "I think I . . . ."  
  
The silence stretched. Iruka realized slowly that Naruto had fallen asleep mid-sentence (some things would never change, it seemed). His breath slow and even, and his eyelids fluttered only occaisionally  
  
Troubled, Iruka sank back into his chair.   
  
Hours passed. The moon traveled it's slow path across the sky, leaving the hospital room thick in darkness, until Naruto and Sasuke were indistinct, lumpy shapes, and Iruka was a man-shaped shadow with gleams for eyes.  
  
He stared at Sasuke. He'd been a boy, once, but he seemed more like a man, now, beaten and tired and full of bitter revenge. The only one who could make him young again was Naruto -- Naruto, who was so deeply concerned, so deeply worried . . . .  
  
Naruto, who too had a Before and an After of his own, now. Before Orochimaru, Before his mission to retrieve Sasuke, Before his week-long vigil at Sasuke's side. Before, and After he realized --  
  
No.  
  
Iruka shook his head with a small smile. It didn't need to be spoken, did it? The shadows had ears, lately, and besides, it sounded ridiculous. They were both too young, too old, for such things. Better to keep it a secret.  
  
A breeze blew and the boys were painted in warm light once again. Iruka settled in for a long night, watching the lantern sway. He would stay here until they both woke up.  
  
They both would wake up.  
  
He closed his eyes, and made it a promise.  
  



End file.
